Complexity
by cssypet
Summary: Love is dangerous, dragging them down when they want to stay lost in dreams. It's a kick, bringing them to a morbid reality.
1. Chapter 1

**Complexity**

**A/N: This is the first part of the Will You Remember Me? trilogy. Yeah. Complexity is the first, ****Blank**** is the second, and Simplicity is the third. Someone please leave me a suggestion as to what I can name the second. I love you guys. And- A sweepstakes! The name of each chapter is the part of a song that I wrote. If you can guess the name of the song, you get a sneak peek to ****blank****. Three hints at the bottom!**

**Soundtrack: Inside Out - Britney Spears**

**'A guy like you should wear a warning."- Britney Spears**

**Prologue:**

Maybe it has been stupid.

Stupid to trust herself, to trust him. Her cold fingers wrap around the door knob again, wishing she can regret. But she knows herself. She knows she will open this door and enter. She knows that if just for _him_ she will risk her own safety, just to know that the calm man with the dark eyes will be safe. Wind blows, crystallizing the tears on her cheeks.

Why?

Because she loves him in every way.

Her fingers move, and she's inside before she can stop herself and listen to rationality.

**Chapter One: These Walls Keep Me Away **

**.Arthur.**

He sees her before she sees him, her dark hair falling in her face and steadily sketching something into her sketch pad. He should talk to her, he decides. There's something about her, an aura, that pulls him in and makes him want to speak with her, to interact. Or maybe it's just that she's beautiful. So he walks over to her sun kissed bench and sits next to her. She doesn't look up. He fills the curious silence with words.

**.Ariadne.**

"I take it you're an architecture student?"

She looks up, pausing in her drawing. The owner of the voice is dressed in a neat and crisp three peice suit, dark hair and dark eyes. Sexy as hell, Carol, Ari's friend, would say, but Ari's not too sure. They are all nice at first. Right before they break your heart. She nods once in refrence to the question, then continues her sketching. Maybe he'll go away, she hopes, but he doesn't: instead he leans his elbow on the back of the bench and watches her. She can feel the weight of his eyes, and it makes her nervous. Her pulse is racing, and this infuriates her. She's sworn off boys after experiencing how terrible and cruel and souless they could be, and she snaps her sketchpad shut and gathers her stuff. "I'm leaving," she snaps, and turns to go.

"Did I bother you? I'm sorry, Ms.-?"

"Ariadne," supplies an eavesdropping Professor Miles. Ari jumps a little and glares at the teacher- couldn't she see she didn't want to talk? "Ariadne, this is Arthur. Arthur, this is Ariadne." "Ari," she corrects almost automatically. Arthur raises an eyebrow and she focuses on ignoring his presence. "He's our new architecture student. Ari, why don't you show him around? Be his tour guide."

Ari _does not _ want to show this beautiful man around, does not want to get close. But sheer will to stay on Professor Miles's good side keeps her from groaning out loud and stamping her foot like a child. "I'l show him around after class," she huffs, and marches off without looking back. Both men stare at the quickly retreating form.

**.later.**

"That's the bathroom. Boys and girls. Here," she gestures with a hand, "is a statue. Of something. I'm not too sure what."

Arthur tilts his head and evaluates it. "It could be," he says after a moment of silence that seems to stretch and expand between them, filled with icy pointedness, "a monument representing the toils and hard labour of those in the Women's Rights Movement." Ari snorts and moves to get a closer look. She's three feet away from Arthur, and she flinches every time he shifts. He tries his hardest to stay still.

"Please. This is probably for all those boys who like looking at girls _nude." _Arthur shrugs, hands in his suit pockets. "That too," he concedes.

The statue's old and dycrypt, peices of gray rock chipping off in places. They both stare at it until Ari abruptly changes the subject.

"Why are you studying here?"

The question is short and sweet, to the point. No beating around the bush for Ari: she'd kill you with one fell swoop. For some reason this comforts Arthur, and he answers the (bit absurd) question. He crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow.

"The same reason you are."

"You sure? You seem distracted."

"Positive."

"Any reason you wear seemingly expensive suits? If you hadn't noticed-" here she spreads her arms to indicate the hallway, where last minute students are rushing to class, "the rest of us are dressed down." Arthur shrugs, an easy rustling of his shoulders. Ari narrows her eyes.

"I like them. They're comfortable for me. What about you? Any reason you like scarves?"

Her hand goes to her throat, fiddling with her gray checkered scarf. The blood has drained from her cheeks, and she smoothes down her hair. Nervous, Arthur notes. "No reason," she mutters. "Let's continue with the tour." Arthur nods. Together they continue down the hallway. Then she stops outside a classroom.

"Professor Miles' classroom. I'm assuming you're in here with me."

She leads him inside, and they both shiver from the change in warm, damp air to fridgid air that sinks into their bones. Ari bites her lip, then sweeps an arm around the steeply rising room. "There's an empty seat here," she says. Numbers and figures are scratched onto a dusty chalkboard, along with an _Ariadne Johnson_ and _Charlotte Berile._ A star student, Arthur muses. "I sit here," Ari continues, gesturing to a desk. Arthur glances at the distance from his desk to hers and suddenly understands why she seemed so smug. "Class is in thirty minutes."

She walks up to the door and Arthur follows.

**.later.**

It's dark out, around eight twenty. Ari keeps checking her watch. She's walking home when she sees them. More specifically, _him._

Ky.

When most people look at Ky, they see a handsome tall boy with blonde hair and a innocent smile. Not Ari. Ariadne's seen him at night, after he's drunk, after all his pretenses have worn off and the true man shines true. A boy who yells at her constantly and hits her, who doesn't let her go outside without him. The guy who acts overly jealous and needs to know where she is, every second of the day. And the guy who 'accidentaly' broke her arm.

_KyKyKyKy_...her mind swirls around his name.

Her breath catches in her throat and she hurries past them, hoping they won't see her. But Ky does, of course, sensing her, as if he can hear her fluttering pulse that hammers against her chest (beatbeatbeatbeat). He grabs her arm. Not too lightly. She can smell the beer on his breath, and she can tell he's drunk from the way he walks. He won't remember this remember this tomorrow. She can hurt him. She slams her elbow into his stomach.

He hisses something into her ear, and she can't hear because her heart is cracking in her chest. She's trying to escape, trying to remember, but a fuzzy cloud has settled into her thoughts with the taste and smell of cry and fury ignites in her. She slams her fist into something fleshy and soft: his chest. He lets her go with a swear, and she begins to run, her feet slamming against the shadow darkened pavement with loud cracks. She can't breathe. She's gasping for air like a fish thrown on land. Ky swims in her thoughts, and she zig zags wildly left and right.

Does this happen to everybody?

She thinks of her dad, her drug addicted father who roared at her mother while she clutches a blanket over her head and whispers a mantra to herself: "_I will leave and never come back." _She did leave, but when she came back she found a bloody body of her mother and a high father holding a knife. Her uncle adopted her but didn't talk to her. Somewhere along the way she has started to cry, and she rubs the tears away with the back of her hand. She stumbles over a crack in the sidewalk, and allows herself to look back. Ky is still there, holding his chest where Ari has punched him. She rubs the tears away that have dropped onto her shoulder. Strong girls don't cry, she tells herself. She remembers Ky kissing away her tears, and tries not to cry. Her arm feels sore where Ky had grabbed it, and on closer inspection she sees a livid bruise.

She fumbles with her dorm lock, throwing it open and collasping onto her bed. She buries her face into the pillow, waiting until Carol's shower has stopped to sit up and wipe the rest of the tears away. But that doesn't fool Carol when she comes out, and she narrows her eyes in a snake-like way before leaving the dorm, slamming the door shut behind her.

She comes back with a _The Hangover_ DVD, ice cream, milk, instant hot chocolate, chocolate bars, and a huge bag of chips. She dumps the stuff onto Ari's bed, pops the DVD into the DVD player and sits next to her.

"Ky?" she guesses, flipping a strand of whitish blonde hair behind her shoulder. Ari nods mutely, and Carol opens the bag of chips open and offers it to Ari. She takes a handful and crunches on one. She swallows and opens her mouth to talk. "Shhh," Carol hushes her. "Don't talk until you're ready. Pay attention to the movie."

A hysterical giggle escapes Ari, and she closes her mouth to watch.

Soon Ari can find the will to speak without crying. "I was walking home," she starts, and Carol nudges her arm where Ky grabbed her. She half shrieks, half sobs, and winces. Carol lets go, narrows her eyes, and pushes up Ari's ice blue sleeve to see the inside of Ari's elbow. She stares at it for a moment, mouth half open. Ari yanks her arm back, pushing down the sleeve like hiding it will make Carol forget. If only.

"Did he do that to you?"

"No." Ariadne doesn't quite know how to arrange her face, so she settles for a poker face.

"Ari," Carol sighs, "you're a terrible liar."

Ari makes a noise in her throat and pretends to be interested in the movie again. She takes a sip of her hot chocolate, swearing when the hot liquid hits her tongue. She's all too aware of Carol's blue eyes that take on a particular iciness. She glances at the clock. 10:30. Late. The movie's almost over, anyway. She should go to bed.

"I'm going to ask you one more time. Did he do this to you?"

"Hypothetically, if he did, what would you do?"

"Nothing. Of consequence. But I would treat him to withering glances in the hallway and shove him whenever I can make it look like an accident."

Ari can accept those terms. She sighs and admits it. Carol falls back onto the bed with a huff. "Damn bastard," she hears, and she feels relieved. Relieved because she has someone who sides with her against Kyle, someone to fight with her. She rolls over. "Turn it off. Time to go to bed," she mutters, and Carol complies, smoothly ejecting the DVD. _I could never do it like that_, Ari thinks. _I'm way too clumsy._

Ari plugs her headphone into her ears and turns on her iPod. She has all of five songs, songs she puts on repeat. She clicks on A Fine Frenzy, the only song that can put her to sleep. She falls asleep in seconds.

_They're at the beach again. The world is calm and serene as little Ari digs for clams, damp gritty sand stuck between her toes and resting in her hair. She pushes hair away from her face to see more clearly. The ocean opens wide and washes away more sand. With a squeal, she drops her trowel and wades out into the ocean. A wave appears out of nowhere and crashes over her head. She struggles for air, kicking her legs and feeling weightless. Then someone snags her, pulling her out of the deep, scary water. She gasps for air and opens her eyes to see-_

_-A white hospital, with white walls and tan chairs that probably feel itchy when you sit on them. Blue curtains, but nothing's red. None of Ari's favourite colour. She frowns, close to tears, then remembers. _

_Wasn't she at the beach?_

**BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEPBEEPBEEEEEEEP.**

The Mickey Mouse alarm clock that she and Carol share pushes her out of her dream/memory. Carol sits up as well, and Ari throws herself out of bed and stumbles around, finally making it into the bathroom. She ignores the sound of Carol's gut wrenching laughter. _It's too early to laugh_, Ari thinks. She pulls out her headphones and hops into the shower.

A bad habit. Ariadne can't go to sleep without listening to Near To You. She's been listening to it for four years.

She gets out and ties a yellow scarf around her neck.

**.Arthur.**

Ari continues the tour with him, showing him the study hall, when it happens.

So fast, so loud, when at least twenty people surround him and Ari. People are shouting, but he can only hear one.

"Asshole! Who gives you the right to walk around with my girlfriend?"

Arthur looks around, sure the dirty blond couldn't be talking to him. _Ariadne has a boyfriend_, he thinks, _and he doesn't look her type_. And this is before the boy rears his arm back and punches Arthur in the jaw. He stumbles backward, one hand automatically flying to his face. He sees Ariadne throw herself onto the boy, shoving him backward. Somehow a whitish haired girl has mixed with the crowd, weaving nimbly through, seeming graceful. But all of a sudden she knocks into the boy in feigned clumsiness, and she apologizes. Something hits Arthur in the back of his head. He sees the guy bend to whisper something into Ari's ear.

_Hit first, ask questions later._

Arthur swings around to see a freshman, pimply faced and trying to look cool for whoever's calling the shots. Arthur jabs him in the ribs, and his face turns purple before falling to his knees, clutching his stomach.

The mass is a violent blend of people and anger, of shouts and violence, and Arthur's losing himself. He catches sight of sight of her, struggling to run from the pack. He wants to say something, but he doesn't quite know what. And then the moment's gone, she's gone, and the mass has seperated them.

**.Ariadne.**

She clutches the fork in her hand like it's her lifeline. She feels terrible, no doubt she feels terrible. Lunch isn't exactly helping her, and she stabs her fork into the lo mein. One of Carol's favourites, and since she's buying, Ari can't turn it down.

"Next time we should go for Korean food. There's this thing that I really wanna try..." Carol trails off the observe Ari. "Still upset?"

Ari can still hear the words he's hissed into her ear: _"You'll always be mine,"_ and it makes her feel dirty and diseased. **alwaysalways****mine**

She twirls her fork in the food and watches as Arthur enters. He's dressed in a vest suit, with a red leather jacket. He looks around, sees her, and starts to come over. She feels too tired to shoo him off, and she owes him an explanation.

But that didn't mean they could be friends.

He approaches, hovering behind Carol. She's still talking aimlessly, gesturing with her hands, and Ari notices how Arthur follows her movements with his dark eyes. Calculating, almost. When Ky was calculating he was trying to figure out how to get her into bed.

Ari points to Arthur and Carol spins around, nearly stabbing Arthur with her plastic fork. "Oh, I'm sorry! Uh...?" She raises an eyebrow at Ari, who blushes (_why am I blushing? I haven't done anything wrong)_ and tells Arthur to sit down.

She can still feel Ky's hot breath on her ear, and she shivers a little before spearing a mushroom with her fork and smiling a plastic smile at Arthur.

****

It's like a roar in her ears, and she focuses on the hear and now.

On his dark eyes, on the shine of Carol's hair in the watery sunlight filtered in the the windows. She tells herself that it's an accident that the first is more interesting to her.

Becasue they can't be friends anway.

**A/N: sort of cliff, I guess.**

**Three hints: It's the title of a popular song. ** **It's two words. It starts with a 'B'.**

**If you want to visualize the characters:**

**Carol: Babydoll, Suckerpunch**

**Ari: Ariadne, Inception**

**Arthur: Arthur, Inception**

**Ky: Peeta, Hunger Games**

**REVEIW LIKE A BEAST. **

**Love you guys.**

**-cssypet**


	2. Chapter 2

**Complexity**

**A/N: Thanks to those who reviewed. 3 to you all. Kisses, too. Not quite, Comfortably Plump, but...something to do with that? I guess. But no. And, for those who are intrested, I have a tumblr now. Just go to my profile and click Homepage. Don't forget to vote Inception for best movie or best kiss in the MTV movie awards website!**

**Soundtrack: I Need A Doctor, Eminem ft. Dr. Dre**

**Chapter Two: Frozen Fingers Trapped Against Glass**

Ari can't avoid telling him. It's only a matter of time. But she can damn well stall. She fiddles with her fork, saying "mhm" and "uh-huh" when needed. Arthur watches her with dark soulful eyes, and it makes her want to rip out her hair and stomp and tell him to stop looking at her like _that_. Clouds have crept over the sun, making the watery sunlight dim and the Chinese restuarant quiet as the lunch rush dwindles. Gray tiles catch her attention; she toes the dirt between each tile, avoiding Arthur's eyes. It makes her confused. She's only ever had two boyfirends: Ky and Daniel, a sticky curly haired boy from kindergarten who had sticky fingers and sticky lips when he pecked her on the cheek. The relationship lasted all of ten minutes, telling her he wanted to kiss his hamster instead. And yet Arthur makes her feel different from the others. Arthur's not her boyfriend, of course, neither her friend, but the way he looks at her...

She doesn't see anything, swirling vision. A hand on her shoulders jerks her back to reality, seeing an expectant looking Carol and a concerned Arthur. He catched her eyes, and then calmly looks back at his hands. He hasn't ordered anything, she notices with interest. Why not? She frowns.

"Any reason why we were mobbed earlier?"

The question sends her rocketing. She knew she couldn't avoid it, Arthur's too smart for her to make him forget, and besides, it's best over and done with. She does hesitate before answering, biting her lip and glancing at Carol. She nods a little. Well, if Carol trusts Arthur enough, then Ari trusts him too.

"He's my...ex-boyfriend. He's just...I mean, he's-" Ari gives up and looks at Carol for help. "It's hard to explain."

Arthur nods, understanding dawning on his face. He probably does understand, Ariadne realizes with a jolt. He doesn't look the type to fake awareness just to look cool. He's better then that. And it's not because of his dark eyes, she tells herself. He's distracting me.

She eats another forkful of lukewarm noodles. Carol checks the time on her watch and sighs. "I have class," she says, and begins to collect her stuff, throwing away her empty tray and grabbing her bags. Arthur says goodbye, and Ari focuses intently on finishing her food. She's halfway done when he talks again. "The whole jealous ex-boyfriend thing," he starts slowly. He's looking up at her through his lashes, making his dark eyes seem soft in the dim watery light. She nods. "Is that for real? Or is there a cult out there trying to kill me?"

Ariadne laughs, a short brittle laugh with no humour. "You'd be better off with the cult," she tells him. Arthur raises an eyebrow. "What makes you so sure?" he asks, and Ari considers, looking down into her lap and searching for an answer.

Ky's ruthless, she knows, overly- jealous to the point of insanity; even when she had broken up with him he still tried to keep her from going anywhere. They haven't dated for three months now, and he's jealous when she's out with some other guy. She bites her lip. Her fingers are locked together in her lap, and she doesn't know how to answer him. _Damn you_, she thinks. His questions actually make her think about things she'd rather not. She untwines her fingers slowly, flexing them. She looks up to see an intent Arthur, watching her every movement. She can't help but think that he _**knows**_ her, why she bites her lip and why she plays with her fingers. She thinks that maybe he knows the answer to the question that's designed to make her feel trapped in a maze, twisting and turning on itself and then doubling back. This man's a puzzle desinged to make you feel different. She meets his gaze with one of her own. There's a question in his eyes. There's an answer in hers.

"I know because I've dated him for two years. You get to know a person. Ky'll try to kill you. Or put you in the hospital."

"I can take care of myself."

"Or so you think until he sics three of his gigantic thugs on you while you're walking home."

She winces a little -hopefully a small enough movement that Arthur doesen't notice, but he does. And that her semi sleeve has ridden far enough up her arm to reveal a huge bruise on her elbow. His eyes widen and he's out of his chair in what feels like no time at all- one second there and the next **here**, and it's all she can do not to giggle at it. He kneels next to her chair and inspects it.

She lets him, knowing she hasn't checked it in a while and he wouldn't let her say no- **not** because she likes the feel of his skin. Not friends, she tells herself desperately. Not friends.

"What _happened_?" he asks, and she can hear the disbelief in his voice.

"I fell."

"On the inside of your elbow?"

"Yes," she retorts, yanking her arm back and pushing her sleeve down. "It happens." Arthur's smart, she knows, and that's part of the problem. He's intelligent, and that makes him dangerous. Kyle's not smart- he cheats on tests and copies homework from anyone in his line of sight. She's not used to someone (a boy) who is as smart as she is, or smarter, and it unnerves her. She doesn't quite know how to deal with him. Like how she knows that Arthur can see through her thinly veiled facade. She stabs another mushroom.

She needs to go soon-its's Tuesday and Ky comes here every weekday to eat Chinese. She finishes her food quickly while avoiding eye contact with Arthur (who wants just the oppisit, it seems). But it's too late- she can see Ky approaching, outside the window, hands in jean pockets and sly grin plastered on his face. She gasps and hears Arthur's sharp intake of breath as she turns her head from the window. She can **feel **him thinking, almost, the cogs in his head turning quickly as he processes the situiation. He mutters something she can't hear, due to her fluttering pulse and thrashing heart.

When she peeks back he's gone.

**.later.**

It's dark as Ari opens the door to her dorm. The stars look like holes punched through velvet and light shines through. She gasps and whirls around as a throughly familiar-and-not-well-liked voice startles her. She glares, hand resting on the handle of the door.

Arthur's leaning agaisnst the brick with a amused expression. "Hello," she says back, and is about to enter when Arthur makes a move to stop her. "I'm sorry about what happened at lunch," she snaps at him. "Look, I'm sorry if I have a crazy stalker obbsesses ex-boyfriens. It _**happens**_."

And it's the thruth. This kind of thing does happen- to anyone at any place. Which means she can't blame herself for anything. She continues, willing her voice not to shake.

"May I go inside now?"

She's turned around from the door to say this, more sassy remarks lined up on her tonuge- like how corny her looks with that freakin' _tie_- but they're lies and she's caught in his eyes again.

Arthur lowers his gaze, staring at his shoes. "No. I wanted to say _I_ was sorry. For leaving so suddenly. I just saw him and assumed-"

"You assumed right. It's okay, leaving early..."

She clears her throat. He catches on fast- seeing little details and clues, hidden hints and buried secrets and peiced together part of a larger puzzle. While Ari's used to reading people- searching their face for clue's as to what they're thinking, a twitch of an eyebrow, a twist of the lips- Arthur's a pro, seeing a murky version of a larger picture. He understands Kyle, at least a little. All of a sudden Ari's afraid that he will find out more about her and discover each of her small secrets. Why she wears scarves, why she loves A Fine Frenzy, why she loves the colour red. She doesn't want anyone else. Doesn't want to be near anyone else.

She opens the doo and is inside without saying goodbye.

She prepares a cup of hot chocolate once she's inside her room. She drinks is quickly while listening to Carol's events of the day, then goes to wash it in the sink. The water's too hot and burns her hand immediatky. She yanks her hand back, swearing under her breath. She can't help but think of her bruise, and a pair of soulful dark eyes. And the touch of soft skin. She swears again (not because of her burn) and finishes washing her mug with cold water.

"Night," sighs Carol, flipping out the lights. Ari changes into her pajamas and climbs into bed, slipping in her earbuds.

-_**She opens her eyes in a hospital**_-

Ari blinks her eyes open to darkened night, Carol snoring loudly. The Mickey Mouse alarm clock reads 4:28. She rubs away tears on her cheeks, aware of the taste of salt and blood filling her mouth. The one other time she tasted blood: **she remembers, and it hurts.**

Ky's face is thrown into shadow as Ari closes her apartment door shut behind her. Cold bites her fingertips and she rubs them together. "How," she starts, "did you get in here? Only I have the key. I'm gonna call the police."

"No, you're not."

Her cell phone is on her hand already- he lashes out and it tumbles to the floor. Her breath rises in a terrified scream. Then she sees it: the dull silver glinting in thw watery moonlight of the unlit apartment. A _knife_. She turns and wrestles with the door knob, her sweaty palms falling off the metal. Then the pain is everywhere, burning like a rancid fire and consuming her and she's so afraid that she'll lose herself in the pain and heat-

Then it's all black.

Like now. Ari slides her eyes shut and presses replay on her iPod.

**.later.**

"...And I want these students to come up after class: Kyle, Charlotte, Anne, William, Arthur, Charles, Liam, Ariadne. Come up after class."

The ususal boos and hisses of, "You're in trouble" start and Ariadne fells her face heat up. She glances at Arthur, who looks just as lost as she. Class whirls by quickly when she wants it to stand still, and when it ends she finds herself walking down to Professor Miles' desk, feet moving but she not quite moving. He stands when the last person arrives (Ky, of course) and gestures to a mechinism that has tubes hooked up to it and a big button in the center.

"This is a PASIV."

Ari wonders if she's the only one to be confused.

"Does anyone know what this can do?"

Arthur says something, and Ari mentally kicks herself for thinking that everyone might be confused. Not Arthur. He's a freaking genuis. Professor Miles smiles at him. "Correct." Ari can almost see him writing down "Arthur" in his mental book of favorite students. She's quite proud that she's on the very top of that list. "Shared dreaming," he continues. "Hook yourself up to this and you can share a dream with someone. What I have in mind for you eight students is something not usually offered. And before you go into this, I need to know if you'll do it." He looks around the small circle encompassing his desk. "You might not be able to dream again."

Ariadne knows that she will certainly do it now. To not dream the same dream again, or have nightmares of Ky- only deep warm darkness. She nods, looking around, and when no one leaves Professor Miles grins.

"Shared dreaming was developed by the military to test run missions. You can kill your fellow fighters or enemies or test out new stratigies and if you die- you just wake up. Perfect? Not quite so. Some of the soldiers lost their grip on what was real and what wasn't. And they needed someone to design the dreams.

"This is where you, as architects came in. But I want you to do something different. I want you to split into pairs that I will assign and design a city. To look real, to bend the laws that couldn't exsist in real life."

Ari glances uneasily at Arthur.

"And the pairs are-"

Quickly Ari finds herself praying she doesn't get paired with Ky.

"Ky and Anne, Charlotte and William, Charles and Liam, and Arthur and Ariadne. You all have one month, until May 3. This counts for 40% of your grade."

She exhales a breath she did not know she had been holding. Her partner- Arthur. She suddenly wishes she had been paired with someone else she might have an idea of how to handle. But anyone is better then Ky, and she'll take what she gets. And if Arthur is what she gets, then yes, she's grateful.

Only it means she has to spend more time with the dark eyed man, and at the moment she doesn't know who's more dangerous.

**.later.**

He carries a notebook everywhere, she discovers, sitting with him and Carol in a damp library. He also has neat handwriting. "A hotel," she says to him now, tapping her fingers on the table. He nods, writing it down. The library lights flicker on and off with a certain kind of randomness that puts Ari on edge. Carol is tapping out a rythm to the song she's listening to- Ari can hear it from across the table and it's in Korean. "Listen, Arthur, we gotta bounce," Carol says now, pausing her song. "Ari has a test tomorrow-" Ari has no thing of the sort, "and she needs to study."

This is the worst lie she's ever heard- this is a _**library**_- but she smiles and nods and begins to stuff her books and sketch pad back into her bag.

"Um. Ariadne."

He has her attention, even if she's annoyed, and she watches him fidget and clear his throat. "Er, I was wondering..."

_Please don't ask me out. I don't want Carol to kill you._

Before Ari can be anything but shocked at her thoughts, Arthur continues. "How is your bruise? It looked pretty bad yesterday..."

She and Carol stare at him, and Ari pushes down her sleeve. "It's..." she starts, then clears her throat..."Fine."

He cares, honestly, and she can see it flicker in his dark eyes. And it's this- that little peice that repels her and attracts her all at once- that makes her pack her bags even faster then really needed. She gets to her feets and nods, a sharp jerk of her head, before leaving.

But she does it. She offers a tiny ghost of a smile- a smile so small it could be non exsistent- and then brushes past him.

She can't even imagine the complications that this could bring.

**A/N cliff hanger! Vote! Vote! And Read and Reveiw! click the button right there! They inspire me to write faster. 3**

**-Cass**


	3. Chapter 3

**Complexity**

**A/N: Thanks for revewing! I've just realized I listen to more Britney Spears then ususal And this chapter is kinda dark, and kinda short, so... and plenty of curses... **

**Soundtrack: Love the Way You Lie- Eminem, ft. Rihanna**

**'I like how you say my name.'- Britney Spears (Break the Ice)**

**Chapter Three: Maybe One day I'll See You From the Iron Prison**

She's having the nightmare again, and like usual, she realizes too late she's dreaming. But it feels real, almost _**too**_real, the blood dark and thick in the watery moonlight, the flash of white teeth, the sounds of the TV slipping into the entrance to her old apartment. The bang of the door, the thud of the knife, the scream itching it's way up her throat but never reaching the air. It hurts and it feels real, but all too soon she discovers herself in her bed, shivering under the covers.

But she has more to think about then nightmares.

She likes Arthur- as a friend. She doesn't want Carol to snap his wrist, like another boy who had the unfortunate experience of asking Ariadne out in front of Professor Miles and Carol. While Carol handled the boy, Professor Miles questioned Ariadne on why she hadn't said yes. "I don't have the time or patience for a relationship right now," she tells him truthfully, but he looks as if she's lying. And some of it is the truth, but most of it is not.

Right now she isn't sure.

She blinks under her blankets, feeling uncalled tears seep from underneath her lashes. She **smiled** at Arthur.

This ruins everything.

**.later. Kyle. **

The bitch was hanging out with him. He glares at his text book for another second, then snaps it shut and gets to his feet, taking another huge gulp of his beer. He's drunk, and he's going to kill him- at least bust his face in, and make her watch. At least. She's his girl, after all, and she should be godamn grateful. He slams the dorm door open and practically runs through it, his vision red and world spinning sickly under his trainers.

He finds them exactly where he'd assume he'd find Ariadne, because now the fucker is like a wart and hanging out with his girlfriend all the time. The library, poring over a sketch pad.

She looks up first, hair falling into her face from it's messy bun, and he looks up as well. The colour quickly drains from her face and she shoots a frightened look at the guy, who quickly gets to his feet.

"_**Fucker."**_

Ky tries to get to Ariadne, who scoots backward in her chair with a hard, blazing look in her eyes. Arthur moves to block him quickly, and Ky gets an eyeful of the scar running from his shoulder to his elbow. "Shit," he hisses, "where'd you get **that?"**

"None of your fucking buisness, Kyle," Ariadne snaps. Ky glares at Arthur. "Back off from her. She ain't yours."

"She's not yours, either. Actually," he tilts his head in Ari's direction, "I don't think she belongs to anyone."

Ky can't breathe for a second, and then impulse fills his veins like ice and he finds himself swinging at Arthur. He catches Ky's fist and retaliates with a jab to his stomach; with a swear Ky lunges for Ariadne and catches her elbow. She yells and wrenches her arm away. Then Arthur has Ky in a strong hold, and Ky nearly finds himself kissing the dusty library table.

"Why do you even hang out with her?" Ky spits out.

There's a moment of silence, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Ariadne staring hard at Arthur.

"Because I want to."

Then he lets go roughly. "Ky," Ari starts, then takes in a deep breath. "Get out."

He does, but not before doing a rude hand gesture at them.

**.Ariadne.**

_Where the hell was the librarian? _thinks Ari angrily. She sits back down at the table and pulls the book towards her. She flips through the book, taking pride in how it is strictly neat- no doodles, not unessesary scribbles, nothing. Just straight angles and lines.

"Ari? You okay?"

"Yeah." She doesn't look at him.

"He grabbed you," he says matter-of-factly, and he turns around to look at her. Ari can see the dust motes floating in the dank library air. Her bruise **does** hurt, but she knows that this will be an excuse for him to touch her. With a bland smile, she shakes her head. She tells herself it doesn't hurt, and she believes the lie for at least three seconds before the pain comes back with a feirce intencity. She grips the table so hard her knuckles turn white. Arthur notices.

"Where your bruise is?"

"No."

She's lying. They both know it. He moves around the table, and Ari quickly plasters a plastic smile onto her face. There's a deathly moment of silence while Ari tells herself that she isn't scared-what can he do- and then he lets go of her arm.

"I'm telling_ Carol_."

**Correction- he can't do anything except **_that_. Even if the punch is way below the belt.

"Let's not be rash," she says, glaring. "And you wouldn't. Tattle-tale."

He smiles- evil, almost. "I would. If it's something serious."

"This isn't serious."

"Really? It's an injury."

"One she already knows about."

"Does she know about Ky coming here today?"

She falters, just a little, but enough for Arthur to know he'd won. A strange glint alights in his eyes. "I'm telling her. And walking you home."

If looks could kill, Arthur would be dead with blood pouring out of his mouth.

The night is unreasonably chilly for fall, even as Ariadne cruches her way through the leaves home. She's ignoring Arthur's prescence, even as he hums "_killing me softly_" under his breath. It begins to annoy her, and five minutes later she snaps and tries to distract him.

"How'd you get that scar?"

Arthur keeps humming, nodding his head a little. "Not exactly a happy childhood, you see." Ariadne nods, blushing. "Oh. I'm so sorry-" He cuts her off, smiling. "Don't be. It's not exactly your fault."

She smiles at him, letting herself what feels natral and relax a bit, because- (abitjusta**bit**'schanged), and it's like a great iron has lifted off her chest. He's started humming again.

"So how old are you?"

"Twenty-four."

Ariadne detects a note of something (**regret**anger**sadness**pain) in his voice but decides not to press it. And he's a good three years older then her. She's twenty one. He's started humming **again**.

"Are you really going to tell Carol?"

"Yep."

"It's something I can handle myself."

"No. It's not. You feel trapped, Ari. Like you don't know which way to turn and you don't trust anyone. Ariadne, I know how you feel. I've been through...something...similar. Childhood abuse, if you want to really want to name it." He's stopped and they are now facing each other, wind rustling their hair and clothes and scattering their leaves at their feet. He's extremely close, and she can smell mint and smoke. Then he leans away and fixes her with a look that she can't name (**amusment**affection**like**love**wonder**admiration). His eyes are dark and soft behind long lashes."I'm sorry," she murmurs again, and he shrugs, the smallest movement possible. "Please don't be." They start wwalking again.

Five minutes later she discovers him humming again, "over the rainbow," it sounds like, and she struggles for a way to make him talk.

"So you like music?"

"A lot."

"What kind?"

They've reached her house. He smiles as she goes inside and he follows. "Any kind."

"So you, like, listen to Metallica?" She blushes as she says it, and hits the elevator button for the doors to open. He observes her, smiling. It hasn't occured to Ariadne that he hasn't answered yet. But it does as the elevator doors open. She turns to him, grinning. "Well?" She starts walking down the hall.

"I haven't exactly tried it, you see,"he says faintly. "Well." Ari inserts her card into the door slot. "You'd better reconsider telling Carol, 'cause-" The door swings open of its own accord.

"Reconsider telling Carol what?" she says flatly. Ariadne glances at Carol. Apparently Carol has the wrong idea, because her eyes suddenly look black in the dorm light, and she's looking directly at Arthur with a hard blaze. Ariadne can only remember one time she looked like that, and she nearly killed Kyle- the first time she'd discovered that he'd hit Ari.

..._the longest moment of silence_...

"Arthur, um-"

"She isn't-"

"WHAT THE FREAKIN' HELL, ARE YA CRAZY-"

Ariadne can hear Carol's southern accent, which only comes out when she's extremely mad. Ariadne tugs Arthur backward, who hasn't lost his composure. "Carol, it isn't what you think. Arthur just insists on telling you something. It isn't _important,_" she adds, glaring at Arthur, "but he _feels _it is. I'm honestly just humoring him." Carol glares, sucking in a deep breath. "Then speak," she says aggresively to Arthur, who takes a step foward and starts to talk.

"Ariadne and I were studying in the library, and Kyle came. He grabbed the inside of her elbow exactly where her bruise is-"

Here Ari makes a noise. "It doesn't _hurt_," she cuts in. "In fact, this is all just a waste of time-"

Carol abruptly leaves and comes back, stuffing something into her shirt. "Okay, where's Ky?" she asks Arthur, completely ignoring Ariadne's protests. "I don't know. Ariadne told him to get out."

Carol gives Ariadne an approving gaze. "You guys should just go to bed," Ari sighs at them, before going into the apartment and glaring at the once again humming Arthur. "And you should really find a new song to sing," she adds. "Good night."

Then she shuts the door.

A muffled "_no promises_" comes through the door, and Ari fights the urge to throw it open and bitch at Arthur. But it passes, and she turns to Carol. "What did you stuff into your shirt?" she asks, and to her surprise Carol begins to babble. "Nothing important. Like, I wasn't really going to use it. I was bluffing. So, um..." Ariadne begins to advance.

"I am going to go to the kitchen and count all the knives, Carol."

Carol shifts uncomfortablly.

"_**They'llallbethere**_," she says quickly, with one breath. A little _too_ quickly, if you ask Ari. She sprints for the kitchen and checks the rack.

"The _forks_?"

"**SORRY!"**

The forks have clattered to the floor, in a disarray, one landing periously close to Ariadne's foot. She jumps backward, unable to speak. Carol watched her closely, face red. Ariadne opens and closes her mouth, goes into the bathroom to change into her pj's, and climbs back into her bed. Carol is still watching her. It's after Ariadne has clicked on the song, it's then she can't possibly hold it in any longer.

"!"

Carol jumps about a mile into the air, but after she sees that Ariadne is choking on laugher she visibly relaxes. "Well," she says cheerfully, "good night!"

And with that she turned off the light.

**.later.**

"Well, class," says Professor Miles curtly, "I belive I want you to enter the dream state tommorow. By yourselves of course, I don't want you to do shared dreaming just _yet_, I think, we'll save that for later." He consults his clipboard. "Up first is Arthur at one o'clock, then Ariadne at one thirty, then Kyle..."

Ariadne finds herself drifting off. Her first controlled dream tomorrow, and she and Arthur had the hotel and bank nearly finished- that had to count, didn't it?

"And first. There are a couple of things needed to see if you're dreaming, but you only need one."

Ariadne's brought back to reality with a bump.

"Check to see if you've remembered how you got there, okay? That way you'll see if it's all real or not."

The thought of losing your grasp on reality...it makes her shiver.

**A/N: And the end of another beautiful chapter! Things get a bit more fluffy and exiting and dark in the next chapter, which'll come out fast if you reveiw, okay? PRESS THE BUTTON. And then vote for Inception for the MTV movie awards, kk? Love you guys,**

**-Cass**


	4. Chapter 4

**Complexity**

**A/N: Have you guys, like, voted? You should. 3. Thank you, reveiwers! I 3 you! All! OMG, one of my favourite arcs in the story ALREADY. This is like a dream.(inadreaminadreaminadream INCEPTION) I'm crazy today. And I might not update as much 'cause I have this performance on Friday, and I'm crazy worried. Oh well. Has anyone gotten the name so far?**

**Chapter Four: I Can See You On The Other Side**

**Soundtrack: Glitter In The Air- P!nk**

**'Have you ever held your breath and asked yourself will it ever get better than tonight?'-Pink-Glitter In the Air**

**.Arthur.**

They've finished the hotel, finished the bank, and now Arthur is pacing, worried, back and forth, in front of Professor Miles' desk, waiting him to come back from talking with another teacher outside. He wonders what controlling his dreams will feel like. Like if he can see his mother again...

He's distracted from this particular train of thoughts when Professor Miles enters the room again, face red. He smiles at Arthur and tells him to sit down in the lounging chair, encourging him to relax. Arthur fights a snort without much sucess, and accepts the needle. "Put it in your wrist," Professor Miles advises,then mutters, "Five minutes should do it," and as soon as Arthur does he hits a button. The world spins a little (**spins**whirls**careens**) and then turns a steady greenish-black. Arthur is dimly aware that this is the back of his eyelids- _should it be this colour?_- and then he's in a hotel.

He has to give her credit.

It's amazing, a blend of autumn colours, brown, black, red, and gold, with soft angles and sharp curves that wrap him in a cocoon of wamth and light, the sunlight falling in throught the window glittering exactly so; she's done a fantastic job.

But even more shocking from the building itself is the girl sitting next to him, dangling her feet her feet off the dark red futon and chatting animatedly with him, holding his hand and looking so relaxed that Arthur **knows** it is a dream, like waking up one mornig and simply knowing it's Christmas- that feeling that starts in his gut and works it's way into your throat but doesn't really know how to make itself into a sound. But this is a bad feeling, reversed, because Arthur wants this in real life even more then simply just **dreaming**, wants to hear more about her and talk with her and hold her hand, because it's what he can never have- it's Ariadne. Talking with him, laughing with him- he wants to know her. To talk with her freely, to not have to worry about what he says and the results. That's what he wants.

Because the alternative is just as possible as him suddenly sporting a unicorn horn.

He stands up (**no**matter**how**much**he**wants**to**sit_**down**_), and leaves the hotel room without so much as a 'goodbye', snapping the door shut behind him; it closes with a bang and he hears a slight gasp from in surprise- he's startled the dream- Ari. With a sigh he continues down the hallway, slightly tense in case anything less welcome shows up, but nothing does, and he makes it down the beatuiful hallway with his mind intact. He lets out his breath too soon, for when he makes it to the ground level to check around he sees Ariadne again- for all the dream- people all resemble her in one way or another- with one wearing a checkered scarf like she was wearing when he was awake, and another wearing her dark red nail polish (he hasn't yet the prescence of mind to wonder how his mind has latched on to these little details and store them away), and yet another wearing her signature Converse: black, with drawings on the sole of the shoes and little notes from Carol and herself, some saying "Finally killed that spider", and another with "icanseesomethingonthehorizon" inking with spattered liquid- Arthur's willing to be that her hand was shaking. Probably after an encounter with Kyle, he thinks wryly. The different handwriting (Carol's) reads "goin' clubbin', or "slept with Andrew again".

Arthur finds it very difficult not to laugh. Holding his ribs, he walks quickly out of the hotel, ignoring all the stares the not-Ariadne's are giving him.

He crosses the street into the bank (after glancing uneasily at a fog surrounding that particular street),grinning at the neatly polished tile floor and the aura of cleanliness that surrounds and permeates it. Here they don't look like Ariadne as much (although some have a suspicious spattering of freckles), but they are still staring at him, so he consiously slows his pace and tries to appear non-chalant. But it's not working even as he heads to the back to see the employee room: one roughly shoves him backwards and their glares turn evil, they're coming closer. Feeling something isn't quite right, Arthur freezes (just**stops**breathing**for**a**second**), and then they pounce.

It's hard, Arthur admits, the resembalance of Ariadne, feeling as though he is detached from it all, felling as if it's Ari herself grabbing him. They are suddenly violent, and Arthur doesn't exactly understand it...

"Oi. Arthur."

He has difficulty looking up, the crowd seems to be pressing in on him...

Then he sees it's Kyle approaching, a silver knife clutched in his right fist. "This is for Ariadne," Ky says, and lunges forward-

"WHAT THE F-"

"LOWER YOUR VOICE!" says another voice sharply- Arthur blinks open his eyes to find himself in a sitting position. Professor Miles observes him sharply behind his glasses; Arthur is forcibly reminded of Dumbledore. "Someone hacked into your dream," he tells Arthur in what sounds like a shaken voice. "Is that possible?" Arthur questions, and Professor Miles takes off his glasses and stares at Arthur. "Of course it's possible," he says quietly. "Anything's possible when it comes to dreaming... Any way," he adds, seeing Arthur about to leave, "tell Ariadne and the rest there's no more dreaming today, I need to find out who hacked it..." He starts muttering and prodding the PASIV.

Arthur knows, but doesn't want to tell. He'd rather find out Ky's big picture, then a little peice...

And he's a tad bit more worried about what Ariadne's going to say about discovering that she couldn't dream today.

**.later.**

"Damn. This is a peice of freakin sh-"

"Sorry," cuts in Arthur hurriedly; he's discovered that once you let her get into her stride, nothing can get her back out except for maybe Carol. "He says that someone's hacked into the dreams, so it isn't the safest thing- but the hotel-"

_The hotel?_

It's like a snake has slithered out of her mouth, hissing _thehotelthehotelthehotel_ all at once, and she all but jumps into Arthur's lap. "The hotel!" She says exitedley, nearly bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, rocking her couch. "How was it? Was the lighting good enough? How'd the paintings come out? D'you reckon the elevator came out nice? What about the carpet? How was that? Did you like the design? Huh?" Arthur's dimly aware that she sounds like a child on Christmas, or rather a child that's cornered Santa and forced him to tell them what their presents were.

"Uh. good. It was. They came out fine, the elevator too. The carpet looked nice. It came out _fine, Ariadne, it looked great, please don't choke me_," he adds, because she's grasped his tie and her smile has nearly split into two from the force of her smile. She lets go and smooths herself down. "Sorry," she says, but she looks like she's glowing. She clears her throat. "So, um- how was your bank?" she asks.

"Exactly how I wanted it to. I wasn't expecting so much, you know."

She grins. "I know." she says, and there would've been an awkward moment if not for Ariadne's squeals of excitment. "I wanted a fall theme,"she babbles. "Like, you know, the season? And if it came out nice..." She grins some more and folds and twists her hands in her lap. "Then I'm happy." she finishes. Then her smile drops off her face. "_**Hacked**_ the dream, you said? Is that dangerous?"

Arthur shrugs at her. "I only know as much as you do." **He's lying, but still. **"I'm assuming it's something dangerous, because he doesn't want the rest of us to dream." She glances at him and it strikes him that she looks vulnerable, but that isn't possible- she's Ariadne, and she tries her hardest to detatch herself from her pain. Then it it passes, and her familiar expression is back- slightly raised eyebrow, arms lifted from her sides- suprised, but disbelieving as well. "Are you okay?" she asks. If it weren't for that flash of something- **Arthur doesn't know what to call it-** then he would think that she doesn't care at all, and she's asking him because it's the polite thing to do. But he's seen it in her eyes.

She cares.

**.Ariadne.**

He looks at her for a second before focusing back on the dust motes floating throught the air; she watches him watch them, telling herself that the question is mandatory. "Yes," he says, and she relaxes a little. Only lets out a little breath of air, and all her concerns that he'll see through the veil that even she can't see properly through fly away with it. _I need something to drink_, she suddenly thinks, and makes her way to the kitchen and pours herself a glass of Pepsi. She can feel Arthur's eyes on her back, and it slightly unnerves her. Only when she turns around to inquire if he wants anything, it's with a gasp she finds him leaning against the doorway. He hasn't made a sound, yet he looks like he's been there for ages. In fact, he only looks surprised that she looks so shocked. Hands shaking, she places the cup to her lips and takes a sip. "D-do you need anything to drink?" she asks, and he blinks almost lazily at her. It makes her want to smack him, until she sees the worry lines on his forehead. _Those'll become permanent, _she thinks, smirking. But he's worrying, and she can tell. She doesn't want to press it though, not now.

"No, thanks," he says to her, and she smiles a little before placing the soda bottle back in the fridge.

He's worrying about the hacker. She revokes her earlier descion.

"Did you see him?"

Her words echo around; Arthur pushes himself off the wall and comes closer. She takes another sip and watches him over the rim of her glass. He leans back against the table and crosses his arms. "What?" he asks flatly. She raises a eyebrow. "_You heard me_," she cuts back. "Did you see the hacker?"

"No."

The colour of his eyes have gone flat, and he's watching her with a sharp intensity that makes the hair of the back of her neck rise. With a desperate prescion, she turns around and rinses out her cup. She places it in the rack. "Are you sure?" she says to the sink, and she hears the creak of the floor boards as Arthur walks away. She can almost **hear **his mind working, the cogs twisting and turning. "I have to go," he says, and she gives a non-commital grunt and the door shuts behind him. She feels that, in the silence of her dorm, that maybe this is the first secret that he's hiding from her. And she's going to wrestle it from him. And something else.

That something has splintered in the air between them, and she can't exactly tell what. Because she's pretty sure that there was nothing to begin with.

**.later.**

"He's leaving, you know," Carol says conversationally. "He's going on that architect retreat that you turned down. In three weeks."

Ari nods, mind on her potholder. She adds another stitch, frowns at the garbled mess in her hands and dumps it on the floor, fuming. Carol makes a face at it. "You're not a typical housewife," she sniggers, and picks up what doesn't even resemble a potholder.

"So it doesn't even matter," sighs Carol. "Whether today, or tommorow. Something's going to happen."

Ariadne looks up, confused."What are you talking about?" she demands. Her patience is done with for the day- not even her emergency stores had any. She wasn't in the mood for Carol's riddles.

"You'll see. And you'll know," says Carol cryptically, and takes apart Ari's twisted stitches and starts to put it to the right shape.

**.later. Carol**

Carol's about to drop off to sleep when she hears the timid knock- quiet, just a fist falling against wood- but it echoes around the apartment and jerks Carol out of the icy shores of Dreamland. Cursing, she stumbles to the door, careful not to wake Ari.

She pulls the door open.

"You!" she whisper yells, and is about to slam the door shut (quietly, **quietly**) when Eames wedges his foot in. "We need to talk," he says hoarsly. Carol looks him over- he looks gaunt, skin hanging off his bones, and his eyes sunken into his head. Defeated.

"I can't help you," she whispers to him, a bit more sympthetically. "If Arthur left, he left. And as for me- I can't help. I don't- I, you-" she breaks off, flustered. "You know why we broke up, right?" she says. He closes his eyes. Carol notes that he's close, closer then she would believe possible for him, but she doesn't move away. She isn't sure why.

"Enough to know it isn't right."

She sighs. "I'm a farm girl. I don't speak this_ I'll- woe- you-over-'cause-we're-in-__**France **_bullshit."

He moves even closer, and Carol can smell him- alcohol (but he certainly isn't drunk; he holds his liquor well) and leather and freshly cut grass and baked bread. She's missed that smell, only she hasn't realized it until now.

She steps backward, pushing him out.

"Goodbye, Eames," she says.

"For what it's worth, I still love you," he says right before she slams the door in his face and climbs back into bed.

She hasn't cried in four years straight and she isn't about to break the record now.

**A/N: Oh shoot. I hadn't meant for Eames to come so early, but this is the second arc and some action has to start soon while Ari, Rachel, Arthur, and Eames unravel everything. REVIEW LIKE A BEAST. And who checked out my tumblr? Anyone guess the name of the song yet? **


	5. Chapter 5

**Complexity**

**A/N: Been QUITE some time...sorry, hectic life, and couldn't find time or room. Sorry, but here you go: WAIT. ****GODDAMN****, (excuse my laguage) CHAPTER FIVE ALREADY? I love you guys. And for the soundtrack, copy and paste it into youtube, cuz it's foriegn. **

**Chapter Five: The shards that bite my skin will comfort yours (here in this glass prison)**

**Soundtrack: Quest Pistols - "****Ты Так Красива****"**

The world is quiet to Ariadne, watching her in the damp, heavy fog that's settled over Paris. Arthur hasn't come over in some time, and she hasn**'**t acknowledged his exsistence. But tonight she'll dream. She's heard that Arthur has stopped dreaming altogether, and she feels something stirring in her gut when this is said, but she ignores it the way she ignores him staring at her. It's been around a week since she met him- and he's messing up everything.

But she can't take it much longer. The thought, hovering in her mind like a fat fly, refuses to be unkown or **not** acknowledged; instead, it sits there and reminds Ariadne that she might (**might)** want other company. And Arthur, damn him, is exactly who she needs.

She'll admit this sore truth, but certainly won't act on it.

She finds herself on the same park bench she met him last week. She finds herself dissapointed should he be there, but she can't see anything in the damn fog, just her hand inches away from her face. The park bench is wet with dew and a bit slippery, but she sits on it anyway and takes out her sketch pad.

Instead of drawing she writes.

_I've heard you stopped dreaming_

_whatwouldyoudreamabout?_

_Is it a sore loss?_

_I'll dream today-_

It takes her a full twenty minutes before she finds she's writing what she would say to him, if he was there. With a sigh and a noise that's halfway a snort and a giggle, she rips it out and crumples it. Then she stuffs it into her bag and leaves.

**.later.**

She finds him purely on accident. She walks into Professor Miles' classroom, and there he is, fiddling with the tubes connecting to the PASIV. He looks up with an expression that she can't name. Ignoring (she seems to be doing this a lot) her hammering heart, she sits on the lawn chair next to him.

"I hear you've stopped dreaming," she whispers. More to herself then him, but he looks up at her anyway. His eyes look an almost-brown in the light falling in through the windows. "Yes," he says. And like that, Professor Miles is swooping upon them like some great beast. A bird, maybe, with his beak-like nose and huge shiny glasses. Ari has to concentrate on not giggling outright. Professor Miles gives her a sore look, and the smile drops off her face as he hands them each a needle, connected to the tube. "Remember, you won't dream for a couple of weeks after this, and if you do, they'll mpst likely be nightmares. So don't go around watching Scream 2 or Chucky or Scary Movie 3 or something."

All Ariadne can think is how Scary Movie is a comedy, but she says nothing and accepts the needle.

Ariadne feels, in the moments before Professor Miles arrives, that the splintered air between them was probably nothing. Or just blistered. But she has nothing to say, and she's grateful.

Arthur has stopped dreaming- she doesn't know what that will feel like. He seems to be bearing it pretty well, though- functioning like normal. Although she's pretty sure even if he was shot or being tortured, Arthur would still act the same. Arthur is calm, steady, reliable ol' Arthur. When Ky was a reckless, unpredictable reck, Arthur would stay the same, a steady (if not weathering, he already has premature wrinkles) rock in the winds or sands, she could never remember, of time. But Ariadne's extremely prone to nightmares.

"Okay, guys- get ready to go," says Professor Miles. She inserts the needle into her wrist and lies back into the chair, while Arthur settles himself in the chair next to her. Right before everything goes black, his eyes find hers.

Beautiful, is the first thing she thinks when she enters the dream. The angles and colors are exactly how she saw them in her dreams, and twisty and turny and the sunlight falling just right, making her feel like it's autumn again, back in Vermont. Pretty and earthen and unrealistic, and her dreams did it justice. Simply an architect's dream- it is, her masterpiece.

She feels like she can melt into a little Ariadne -shaped puddle on the ground. Arthur smiles a little next to her (bringing out the aforementioned premature wrinkles), raising his eyebrows again. Ariadne takes a deep breath.

"Wow."

Not what she intended to say. She tries again. "You never told me…it was like this." Aha. The right words.

He looks at her. She notices his hair looks ruffled a little. "Thing seem different when you actually see the, Ariadne. A picture may be worth a thousand words, but the question is, can easiest thing to describe."

He has a terrible sense of dry humor, she thinks. And he sounds like he's stealing a quote. "Except for the picture worth a thousand words bit, was that a quote?"

Full out grinning, he shakes his head.

"Nerd," she whispers under her breath, and he smiles. Ariadne finally notices they're in a hotel room, with a red futon. Arthur looks at the futon too, and he looks almost..sad. Before she can figure out why, he's leading her outside into the hallway,


	6. Chapter 6

**Complexity**

**A/N: Review. Even if you don't like it, review. And then check out my other A/A fic, Slow Kicks. Review, review, oh, review. Even if you reviewed already, review again.**

**Soundtrack: Sunday Morning- Maroon 5**

**Chapter Six: Can you comfort my bleeding (glass) heart?**

**Not** even Ariadne understands it, at first.

How did she let Arthur so far under her skin? She doesn't get it, doesn't understand it, and she has a feeling that she won't ever completly get it. Because with Ky it was different- it was all about **him **and **his **interests, how **he **felt, what **he **liked. And then after he had stabbed her- hurt her in so many ways she thought she was already dead- then it was the murkiness removed from her eyes.

At first she had though it was her fault: she had, **somehow**, she had been a bad girlfriend, hadn't done what was expected, and now: this. But over time, while thinking things over (she had a lot of time to do that in the hospital) and then moving out of her solitary apartment and moving in with Carol, she realized that no, it wasn't her fault in anyway (even if Carol drummed this into her head). It was Ky, and he had stabbed her, and he had tried his hardest to make her life a freaking living hell. The only reason it was a **living** hell and that she wasn't dead was due to the fact that yes, Kyle was an idiot and instead slashed at her arm. She doesn't even want to know where he was actually aiming; but he was drunk and maybe it could've been aiming at the door to scare her.

But that's only proof of how long she's been making excuses for him.

She still has nightmares. That's why she doens't like to dream.

Only when you don't dream- even if you want to dream of angles and colors and a hotel you made all on your own - "**It came out fine, Ariadne,"**- but even still, it had been so beauitiful she hadn't known what to say. Arthur had laughed at her very expression. "Like you never saw the sun before," he'd said, and she'd smiled.

But this- _**this**_, where an empty, cold darkness lies just beneath her eyelids- she doesn't even call this sleeping. She imagines this is what death feels like: cold, icy fingers that just _**wait**_her to close her eyes...**wait, and then pull you under the icy waters...**

For the first night, she admits, she went to bed early, thinking everything could be fine now that she couldn't dream. But instead she falls asleep to that **thing **under her eyelids. The second night she stays up until four A.M., watching movies with Carol and laughing shrilly at the retards in the _Hangover, _and clutching a cup of coffee with slightly cold fingers. Carol doesn't notice Ari's shaking, and when Carol falls asleep Ariadne slips out the dorm into the quiet streets of Paris.

The next night she does the same, but now she just can't stop shaking. When Carol asks her what's wrong, it comes out as "The weather's getting colder, that's all," so Carol lends her a coat that looks ages old and smells like sugar candy. Ariadne can't even fathom why.

The next night she's working with Arthur on the rest of thier city. Ariadne is fuzzily thinking that '_**causaul**_' for Arthur is no vest or jacket, just his sleeves rolled up and a couple of buttons open, and she watches him sketch. He's speaking, and she doesn't even try to pay attention. She wants to laugh. Arthur's trying to grow a beard (there's stubble in his chin).

Arthur's apartment is exactly what she'd expect of it: neat and orderly, without a paper out of place. Never a hair out of place, she thinks, and then she wonders groggily: **does he ever get tired of it all? **And then she wonders, **get tired of what?**

**She knows what. The gel in his hair. **

Ariadne smiles.

And slowly, like juice seeping through a paper napkin, she falls asleep right there on Arthur's kitchen table.

She awakens to the sound of coffee bubbling in a coffee maker.

She discovers herself in a bed swaddled with blankets and a whole bunch of pillows. She literally has to fight for the air, trying hard not to rip the obvioulsy expensive sheets. She finds herself clutching a hand. She lets go immediately, breathing hard.

Then she sees it's Arthur and actually scoots backward in the bed, ending up banging her head on the headboard. She notices that he has shadows under his own eyes and his knuckles are stark white while he curls his hand into a fist.

"You were screaming..." he says softly. She sits up slowly, clutching her aching head. She feels hungover- is that possible for drinking more then fourteen cups of coffee?

"Were you having a nightmare?"

"No," she snaps. "Just the opposite. Arthur, what the hell! It's freaking 80 degrees and you covered me in _blankets_!"

"Most people would say thank you." The way he's looking at her...

She sinks back under the bed, shaking her head slowly to disspell the cloudiness in her mind. It stays there, stubborn.

**Just the opposite.**

"Thank you," she mutters, not looking him in the eyes. He lifts her chin with his fingers and looks her in the eyes sqaurely while she tries to avoid his gaze. "You're welcome," he murmurs, and she notices that the sunlight falling through the high arched windows of his apartment make his dark eyes look the most beautiful black...

"Just the opposite," he says under his breath, and she glances at him sharply. "What does that mean?" He looks down at his hands.

She shifts under the blankets.

"It's scary sometimes," she says softly. "Like...cold darkness...and I can't breathe. I used to think I wouldn't dream..." She looks up to see Artthur watching her with an expression she's never seen before. "I'm sorry," she says abruptly, getting out of the bed. "I don't know why I'm telling you this..."

She's happy and proud to see that she still has her clothes from last night on. She glances around the room for her sketch pad and finds it sitting on the dresser. With a carefulness she wouldn't usually use, she picks it up and begin to flips through it nonchalantly.

"Do you dream like that too?" She asks hesitantly. He stands as well. "Coffee's ready" is all he says before leaving.

But she saw it. The little flicker of yes (yes_yes_**yes**yes) is his eyes.

**.Carol.**

She has loved Eames.

Once, he made her palms sweaty and her heart race and made her try **oh-so-hard** to stay nonchalant. Well, that had been blown out of the water once he'd touched her. She thinks blown, but her heart says **rocketed**.

Electricity. That's what it was- the simple touch of his fingers on her flesh and she'd wanted him, simple as that. And for some weird, unexplicable, cosmic reason, he'd wanted her back. And when they'd kissed the first time...

**"I think I love you."**

**"I love you. I do."**

And they'd kissed again.

But that was once.

A whole scandal with a girl named Rachel- Rachel, was, ironically, Carol's sister, and Eames had gotten onto his knees and begged her to take him back. Carol was lithely aware of the stirring in her heart (**maybe it's the truth,) **it whispered. (**Maybe he still does love you.**)

But her mind had said something different, and her eyes, when she's came across them kissing in the awning of her apartment. She hadn't wanted to believe it, but Eames had immediatly spotted her. She threw her bag onto the sodden ground and shoved her drenched hair out of her eyes to see.

She never wanted to see those perfect eyes again. But one last time

_"I thought you loved me," _she'd shrieked in the aching, perfect silence that followed. "_I thought you felt the way I felt." _

**"I do**," he'd said, and his eyes had that look that meant he wanted to hold her. She backs away, shaking her head. _"You don't, you don't. You're an ass, Eames! A asshole! I loved you! How could you?"_ And she had collapsed to the wet ground, arms wrapped around herself, shivering in the rain. Her sister started to help her up, but Carol had shoved her perfect, tall, truely blonde sister out of the way and started to run. She **ran**- _ran _to the airport, ran away, _**ran **_from **him. **Ran from Georgia (**permenately). **

Sometimes, at night, she'll hear him whisper in her ears the words she wants to believe.

"**It's not what it looks like." **

Sometime later, Carol had come to a concrete conclusion.

Her sister was a bitch.

She hadn't talked to her sister for three years, and now Carol is twenty-three. Ironically, Carol had met another girl once she had come to Paris. A Vermont girl, who had liked the leaves and hated caramel, the same colour of her own eyes. A girl with a haunted past. A girl who dreamed so big that her own imagination spanned across the world and landed in Paris, girl who like the lines and curves of architecture: Ariadne.

Eames was a beautiful, scarred memory.

"_For what it's worth, I still love you."_

**.Ariadne.**

Ariadne slowly drinks the coffee. It's just the way she likes it: three sugars, cream and milk. He even gave her eggs and toast. "Sorry," Ariadne apolpgizes for the fifth time. "I didn't _mean_ to fall asleep on the table..."

Arthur shuts his newspaper to look at her. "I know," he says softly.

Right before he leaves, Ariadne has to remind herself he's leaving in three weeks.

**A/N: REVEIW. Really. It makes life worth living. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Complexity**

**A/N: This isn't actually really relevant, but it does help if you read it. I might not post for a month or so, but I might also post. I have some really crazy bad-ass stuff going on in my life, including my book, which is actually more trouble then its worth, but still. So…keep a heads up for a chapter. And: Maeleene, I was going to name it Rationality, but I will consider ****Consistency**, ameliamarie15**, congrats for winning! The name was Break Even!**

**Soundtrack: Smile- Avril Lavigne**

**Chapter Seven: Can you come and make the rain right?**

Nightmares.

Not the kind she is used too- the kind where you lose everything and you fall and fall and stop, then fall some more as your loved ones gather around your body. She isn't that surprised to see Arthur standing next to Carol, and her mother, and her cat, Bubbles…

Only to see them walk away.

The next day she can't look anyone in the eyes.

Carol tactfully doesn't mention it, but Arthur doesn't know Ariadne the way Carol does. But he knows how to cheer her up.

"_**A boat ride**_?"

Carol skitters out of the dorm with an excuse that sounds like, "_need to get the cat."_ Carol hates cats. Hell, she doesn't even _have_ a cat.

Arthur's smiling. "That won't work, Arthur. I'm afraid of boats, I'm afraid of fish unless it's on my plate, I'm afraid of animals, I'm afraid of drown-falling," she blushes. Arthur tips his head. "Were you going to say 'drowning'? You don't know how to swim?"

"You're going to learn how to die in a couple of seconds."

The threat is half-hearted. Still. Arthur rocks backward on his heels, disbelief coloring his face.

"I'll catch you. Or take you to the hospital."

"I'm not going, Arthur. Only if I fall down the stairs will that be needed."

"I didn't think you were that clumsy."

"I didn't know you were _**this**_ suicidal."

"Please?"

Ariadne considers slamming the door in Arthur's face. But today is Saturday, she muses. She has nothing else to do but drown. "Fine. You pay my medical bills." She also adds something under her breath. Arthur ignores that.

A few minutes later, she finds herself paddling away. The boat tips back and forth a little as Arthur paddles. She clutches the sides, face green. "Can you paddle a little, oh, I don't know, _better? _If I fall out you're coming with me. And if I get this scarf wet, so help me Arthur-"

She pauses. She was going to say Arthur's last name, but she doesn't know it. She considers him.

"What's your last name?"

He glances at her, and then focuses on the calm body of water. "I like to think I don't have one," he mutters.

Delighted, she scoots closer.

"It can't be _that _bad. Hey, what's your name?"

"Baskov."

She tests it out in her mouth. It sounds clunky and foreign and beautiful. Arthur Baskov. It's better then her own last name, Johnson. She smiles to herself. Arthur's Russian, a thought she hadn't given much attention to.

"I like it. What's wrong with it?"

"It reminds me of my family."

"Oh."

There's an awkward silence. Arthur continues rowing.

Ariadne starts to notice, uncomfortably, that there are other people on the water. Couples, smooching and coddling. She shifts.

"Hey, Arthur-"

The boat tips- just a bit- and it would've righted itself if Ariadne hadn't flung herself to the far side of the boat, rocking it the other way, and the boat dumps her out. Before she goes, she grabs Arthur by the tie and pulls him with her. He laughs. Then she's

He snags her around the waist and brings her up for air.

"I told you," she spits out, and lets loose with a whole bunch of curse words. He waits her out, and then rights the boat. As he's climbing inside, she splashes him. HE helps her onto the boat.

Purposely, she tips the boat over and holds on so she doesn't fall out. He splashes back into the water.

"Say sorry," she says with all of the air of a princess. He glares up at her. "Really," he says. He starts to shiver.

"Really. Say it."

She's soaking wet, one of her favorite scarves ruined, her hair sodden and plastered to her forehead, and yet she refuses. He wonders…

"Fine. I'm sorry."

She allows him back into the boat, grinning. He starts row again. "I told you," she says, smiling. "I _told_ you."

"Let me make it up to you," he says, bringing the boat to land. She looks at him, pushing her hair out of her face. "How?" she questions suspiciously. "Let me buy you breakfast."

She gives a huff. "It better be good," she says. He grins at her.

"It will be."

**A/N: Such a cliffy! Review! Review! Review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Complexity**

**A/N: Part Two! I don't think you guys care, but I'm bored, so I painted my nails to match my room. Blue! Anyway, enjoy the story.**

**Soundtrack: Smile- Avril Lavigne**

**Chapter Seven- I guess that maybe you can**

He didn't lie. The breakfast was great, in all perspective. Arthur had taken her to a small café and she'd had croissants, buttered and toasted, with strawberries and some yogurt. Needles to say, she ate herself full. Arthur, she noticed, only had some eggs.

The sun came out after a few minutes, and she liked how it shone on the street. Beautiful. She realizes when she said it out loud when Arthur says, "I know." She looks at him sharply.

Arthur Baskov. It still sounds foreign and beautiful to her. She smiles at him over the rim of her orange juice. No coffee for Ariadne today. She unties her still-wet scarf from around her neck and stuffs it into her bag. She pulls out her sketch pad.

"Want to get to work?" she asks. In the bustling café, where they're most likely not to be disturbed, is an ideal place to work.

"Sure," he says. He gives her a strange look.

"I was thinking. We can use a café like this…small and friendly…"

**.later.**

Ariadne doesn't watch the TV or news much, or use the computer, lest she sees news about her father, the murderer, or anything else. She understands why Arthur doesn't like to talk about his family. However, Carol does, and she can't ask to mute it. In spite of herself, she listens.

"And we've just gotten some recent news on the Baskov case…"

Ariadne jerks upright and flies over to the TV. The news reporter is a small woman in high heels, sticking her chest out and fluffing up her hair. She's in front a court house. It's swamped with people.

"Marcus Baskov, serial killer and kidnapper, has just been tried and sentenced to death row…"

Out comes a man. He's wearing prison orange and is surrounded by police. Ariadne feels like she can't breathe. "Whoa," Carol says, leaning forward. "That guy looks exactly like Arthur…"It makes sense. Ariadne's father killed her mother and was sentenced to a lifetime of jail, but he died in prison. Arthur's father was a mass murderer…

Which was worse? To know your father didn't give a shit about your mom and killed her just to prove it? Squeezed her neck until her mother couldn't pull in air? And went limp? Or to shoot a gun and see how many people die?

And how did that affect Arthur?

As Ariadne watches, somewhat numbly, as the man starts shouting and is immediately ambushed by the police. They drag him away, while Marcus fights the whole way. Someone knocks on the door.

Ariadne darts forward and jabs the POWER button on the TV. And would you guess, it's Arthur.

Carol glances at Arthur with wide eyes. She suddenly makes a connection. With the grace of a ballerina, she backs into a window and pretends to stare out over the street.

He holds out Ariadne's scarf. "You left this. I think it might've dropped out of your bag." She takes her still damp scarf from him, ignoring the simple brush of their skin. Almost immediately something in her chest moves, like it had claws. She backs away from him. "Thanks," she says, and all but slams the door in his face.

**.later.**

She works on the café alone that night.

"Wow," comments Carol as she crosses over to where Ariadne is working. "I don't…."

"His last name is Baskov, Carol," Ari snaps. She doesn't know what to think and she gets the feeling that she's spiraling downward. Her mind turning into a dark, soulless cave. She sighs and turns to face her best friend.

"His dad…I mean, I knew he had problems with his family. I did, too, Carol. But he didn't know those people. Dad sure as hell knew Mom. And they're both dead."

She pauses and considers.

"He doesn't like who he is."

Carol leaves the room and comes back with a bag of popcorn. "Here," she says, and Ari takes a big handful. "You don't either," Carol says. "What do you want me to do?" Ari asks.

"Get to know him, Ari."

She laughs at the expression on her face.

"I know. Kyle, the bitch-ass. But Arthur's different…I don't know…"

When Carol says different, a shadow passes over her face. She looks depressed.

"Enough of this," Ariadne announces. "Harry Potter marathon, from year one to year seven part one!"

They go to sleep at four in the morning.

**A/N: Ah…drama…wait'll happen in the next chapter! Oh, I am absolutely evil…!Review! **


	9. Chapter 9

**Complexity**

**A/N: SO...I've decided tje next few chapters will be pretty short and then the next **_**long**_** chapter will be more epic. Think of them as flash-shots. Review!**

**Chapter Nine: I'll break into peices**

"Go away."

"Carol..."

"Godamit, Eames, I said no! Go away!"

She puts her back against the door and slides down. "There's nothing you can do. You should just leave."

"You're right- I should. But I won't."

She bangs her head against the door. "Why do these things happen? I don't like how this happens to me...and her..."

"Her?" Eames says sharply. "Which her?"

"Ariadne. It's a long story."

"I've got time."

"I didn't know. Not at first. I knew Ky was...not right for her. But Arthur's making it better, he really is. Sometimes, she looks at him, and it feels...different. But anyway." Carol swallows. "It was dark. Really dark. The street lights were out, and it was cloudy, so you couldn't see the moon, y'know? And she called me so we could have a movie marathon night. She had an apartment by herself. She sold it after it happened."

On the other side of the door, she can hear Eames' steady breathing.

"So I came over. It was cold. I opened the door, and she was on the other side of the room. Kyle's shirt was off, and she was crying really loudly. I only knew later that nothing...weird... happened. But there was a knife. And it was soaked in blood."

She's gasping for breath. She hadn't told anyone else the story, and now she's started it she can't stop.

"I didn't really knew what happened. Eames, remember when Mae let me take karate for a year?"

She takes a deep breath.

"I'm really glad she did. Ariadne didn't say a word. Not for the next month. Sold her apartment, moved in with me, bestest of friends living together. But...she didn't talk. _Not one word._"

Carol sees the dorm as she saw the apartment that night- Ariadne's cell phone on the floor, the on the blood staining the walls and floor, the bloodied knife still on the ground, a quivering figure in the corner...

"Eames," she says.

"Open up."

She does.

He's staring at her. Carol's surprised and angry to find herself crying.

"I don't- Eames- fuck it, see what you-"

He kisses her.

She slaps him.

He stares at her.

Then kisses her again.

She lets him.

**A/N: Reveiw!1**


	10. Chapter 10

**Complexity**

**A/N: Chapter Ten already? I'm feeling so epic 3. Anyway. Review. Or I'll cry. **

**Chapter Ten: And Yes My Heart Will Hurt**

**Soundtrack: The Dream Is Collapsing- Hans Zimmer**

"Wait."

He does. Her hand is on the counter top. Never before had it felt so…cold. She swallows, blinking. He's staring at her.

"You're leaving?"

Arthur turns all the way around. Only now does Ariadne see it- the suitcases scattered around the small flat. Arthur's neat, she thinks. She swallows again.

"Yes. They wanted me to come early."

She drags air into her lungs. The sun seems too bright. She shouldn't be bothered. She shouldn't care. She shouldn't want him to stay, shouldn't want him to stay, and shouldn't want him to stay at **all.**

She doesn't understand. She's confused.

It comes out timid, the words scattered in her mouth, clinking against one another, choking her but coming out of their own accord, feeling like snakes, beautiful, like glimmering jewels, but just as poisonous. She wills herself to say it louder.

"When are you coming back?"

If he leaves he shouldn't have to come back. He'd have been here the whole time.

**Don't go. Please don't go.**

Little memories. Little flashbacks-

_"__I was thinking. We can use a café like this…small and friendly…"_

"_What's your last name?"_

_Clunky and foreign and beautiful__**-**_

_**The cold water around her and the feeling of his arms around her-**_

"_Say sorry. Really. Say it."_

_The blankets smothering her and awakening to see him right there…_

"_A picture may be worth a thousand words, but the question is, can you describe it?"_

"_I hear you've stopped dreaming."_

"_I'm telling Carol."_

**Don't go. I want you to stay.**

She can feel herself falling. Into what?

The thing in her chest scratches at her ribs. She breathes quickly, a little gasp. Less from the pain and more of Arthur coming closer to her. She doesn't need him, she tells herself. Because…this…what **is** it? It makes it hard for me to breathe. I don't want him closer.

_Do I?_

**Do you want him so far away that you can't even feel his heart beating? So far away you can't hear him breathing? **

"A month."

She fell.

Not actually- metaphorically. Fell so far and so hard that her vision swims and her heart races and her spine tingle and her palms are sweaty. She went, and she left Arthur behind. And she wants him with her, however selfish that might seem.

"…Okay."

He's so close she can smell him. Like leather and smoke and wine. Like an exotic present, too beautiful for Ariadne to unwrap. She chokes on her want, chokes on her need, chokes on her simplicity. Or her complexity? Aren't they so closely merged you can't tell them apart? What is the difference?

"When will we return it to Professor Miles?"

That wasn't what she wanted to say.

**Will you miss me?**

He raises his hand and brushes her hair back from her forehead. She stops breathing, wondering what will happen next. **Unforbidden, wanted, needed, wonderment, amazement, awe, pity…**

He closes his eyes and breathes in so sharply that she can hear the air whistle past her. Then he takes a step backward and collects his bags and is out the door. Ariadne is left behind, _simply_ (**complexity**) wondering what just happened.

**.later.**

It's quiet and dark in the dorm. Carol isn't asleep yet. Ariadne listens to her breathe.

"Carol?" she asks timidly- Carol had been in a peculiar mood all day.

"Yes."

"What does being in love feel like?"

Silence, again, and then Carol breaks it.

"Your heart races. Your palms are sweaty and your heart hurts and all you see is them. All you have to do is imagine your life without them. How do you feel?"

Ariadne knew.

She was living it.

**A/N: Review. I worked hard…It would make chapter eleven come out faster!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Complxity**

**A/N: Decided I might as well type this up. Flower power. :)**

**Chapter Eleven: But I think I'd just rather let you go**

**Soundtrack: My Apocalypse- Escape the Fate**

No, she doesn't love him. Of course she doesn't. She just...misses him.

Extremely.

The first day crawls by. She's counting every second, every moment, every time she breathes. Eventually she stops doing that becuase it feels like she's drowing. Air, air, Ari. Breathe, breathe, breathe. Try to forget the ice. She truns to music and drawing.

She finds an awesome band that seems to convey her very mashed up, pounded, stomped on, mixed, and vibrant feelings. Escape the Fate. She's not in love. She's not in love. Love is not for her.

She spends a lot of time trolling through her old journals. The very last entry is blood stained and it makes her pain worse. Pain? No. Her numbness. She's numb, numb to the point of being cold. She draws dark, abandoned buildings. She draws the spider crawling on her wall. After she's done she goes after it with her sneaker. It climbs into the top- right hand corner and setles itself there, even spinning a web. It's too high up for Ariadne to reach.

_IT was so dar. I hope Carol doesn't read this because...I found out that Ky killed someone._

_He was so drunk. Was it my fault? I must've done something wrong. So wrong. I must've. But I thought he'd understand. Because he killed Rachel. Carol's sister. It was an accident, but her was on a mottorcycle. He killed her. And Carl doesn't even know that she's dead. That's why he came after me. To make sure I didn't tell her. And her old bofriend, Eames, was Ky's friend. Eames was in the hospital with her._

_She's dead._

_He was going to kill _**me.**

_What do I do? _

She rips it out of the journal and crumples it up.

Every day she checks the news to see more information about the Baskov cae. Even information about his son. But no such luck.

When she goes to sleep, she can still feel the weight and warmth of his hand on her temple. She feels lost.

And she wants to tell Carol. But she bites her tongue and doesn't say a word.

**A/N: Like I said, extremely short. Continue reviewing!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Complexity**

**A/N: SO...thank you reviewers, always making my day! **

**Chapter Twelve: Watch you swim away under the waves**

**Soundtrack: Time- Hans Zimmer**

Carol has been 'seeing' Eames for a week now.

Nothing more.

At all.

Kissing him, talking with him...it _feels_ like dating, only- it's not. For she won't break her heart like that again. She's careful, shying away when things get a little _too_ much.

Too much is too much. Especially for her.

She can't take his face when she pulls away. She doesn't look anymore.

And Ariadne has simply shut herself away. No more talking, no more moving, Simply sitting there and- well, breathing.

It reminds Carol of when Ariadne was stabbed.

The silence- silence, silence. Forever silence.

Carol doesn't want to break it- just leave it suspended there, like fragile glass- but she's afraid then it'll splinter all on it's own.

She wishes Arthur could just come back.

She wishes she could make Eames understand.

But she can't. And that's terrible.

"Eames," she says finally, one day. He glances up from the notebook he's writing in. She wants to know what he's writing-but she stays still, hands clutching her desk. And she waits.

The ice doesn't splinter. It simply shatters.

"Carol?"

She takes a deep breath.

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I know."

"And the whole thing with Rachel..."

"It's okay..."

"She kissed me."

"...well-"

"And then you walked in, and I-"

She kisses him to shut him up.

It works.

**A/N: Review! **


	13. Chapter 13

**Complexity**

**A/N: Sorry for being so off the radar, but you know...summer is summer. Review, as always.**

**Chapter Thirteen: I've never thought of love as being something indefinite**

**Soundtrack: Mind Heist- Zack Hemsey**

**Of course, **the day she finally starts to draw again is the day he comes back.

A knock on the door. She rises, irritated, ready to tell Carol off for not calling her first. The door opens. Silence. Silence. Silence.

She's _never _seen Arthur in a T-shirt before. She wonders where her camera is. Carol probably took it. As usual. She takes a step back.

"Started another sketch, I see," is all Arthur says. "Hello," she bites out at him. The thing in her chest rises, curls, moves forward like a predator about to pounce on it's prey-

The very idea is absurd.

Hugging Arthur? No.

But she wants to.

"How was your trip?" she asks. Arthur shuts the door behind him and leans against it. Ariadne vividly remembers the one time she did that. In a dark apartment. The TV blaring...

Arthur shrugs, smiling. Ariadne leans back and quickly shuts her sketchpad, wondering where the hell Carol is. Shouldn't she be here now? Ariadne doesn't feel comfortable.

**.Carol.**

"Eames, stop!" she shrieks, giggling. Other people in the market turn and wonder at her. "We need to find Ariadne's camera," she says on a more serious note.

Eames looks up from nuzzling Carol's neck.

He says, "Roger that."

They never get around to searching for it. Carol ends up buying Ariadne a new one.

**.Ariadne.**

Arthur moves forward. Ariadne's breath catches. She is falling still. She realizes that she's never stopped.

The laughter has vanished from his eyes, and instead a new light reigns. Soft and gentle.

His hand tucks her hair back...

"Arthur, stop," she says shrilly. He ignores her.

"Arthur-"

"Ariadne."

She stops babbling. The thing in her chest shrieks with victory, turning about and leaping around. It hurts.

Coming closer.

She backs right up into the table. Can't go any further.

No way to escape.

Escape is needed right now, must run, must get away- but to where? Where? Why?

She forces herself to calm down.

Arthur's timing is terrible. Because as soon as she's ready to speak normal words and try to slow down her racing heart, (_trying to catch it, reel it back, but it's already too close to Arthur for her to go after it_)he's kissed her.

**.Carol.**

She tips back on her new heels, sipping from her latte and climbing the stairs to her dorm. The mail box is stuffed with letters, and one in particular catches her eye. It's not even in an envelope, simply folded thrice and shoved into the box.

_Dear Ariadne Johnson,_

_I am pleased to inform you that you have received a job offer from my former student, Dominic Cobb. He asked me for my best student and you came to mind immediately, along with another person. Arthur. Are you really surprised, sweetie?_

_So whenever you can..._

Carol shrieks. She jams her key into the lock, twists, and blushes.

"Oh, sorry."

Arthur glances up. Annoyed.

"Um. Ariadne. I'm just going to put this on the table. Just, uh- bye."

Poor Carol flees.

**.Ariadne. Going back in time for just a bit.**

Soft. Gentle. Hands cupping her face.

"I've missed you." murmured against her lips.

"I came back early."

"So beautiful."

Her scarf is disposed off and he's kissing her neck, and Ariadne gets- realizes- that yes, she loves him.

She's let the man in the suit(well, now in the T-shirt) grow on her.

The door opens. "Oh. Sorry." Carol's as red as a beet, clothes rumpled and plastic shopping bags in hand.

"Um, Ariadne. I'm just going to put this on the table. Uh. Buh-bye." Carol's accent peaks at the end of her sentence, and she flees.

The door slams behind her.

She's placed a letter on the table.

Ariadne moves away from Arthur and scans it quickly. Then she starts jumping up and down. Shrieking. She nearly breaks the floor.

"OHMIGOD," she yells at arthur. "OHMIGOD."

"WHat-"Arthur leans forward and scans it quickly. Then reads it again. "No way," he mouths, and Ariadne practically leaps into his lap, she's jumped so high.

Later that night, Arthuur is on the futon next to Ariande's bed. Both stare at her curtains.

"I don't want to love you," she says after a moment. She can feel Arthur shift to look at her. "But you do anyway," he finishes. "Right."

"What makes you so scared of...this?" he asks. Dares to ask, more like.

"Ky. A lot of things. Mom and Dad. Ky."

"You said Ky twice," Arthut points out.

"What ever."

Arthur smiles in the dark.

**A/N: I know, finally, right? Review! Check out Movement! Review again!**


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